With the world's eyes on Virginia yesterday, waiting for the rumoured Senate-defining Democrat victory to be confirmed, I thought I'd see how this landmark moment in American political life was playing out on radio in the state. I do rather wish that I hadn't.
There are 359 radio stations in Virginia, an alarming proportion of which are decidedly religious. Most of the rest play extraordinarily undemanding musical selections from their chosen genre, and the big questions of the day for these stations are not quite the ones you might have been expecting, given nearby political events. "What was your first thought when you heard that Britney Spears is divorcing?" asked 92.5 WINC with a real sense of urgency.
When you do find local speech radio, it's likely that anything not brain-meltingly parochial will in fact be a syndicated show. Right-wing political pundit Laura Ingraham was defending Donald Rumsfeld in lively fashion on Outlaw Radio WLRT ("He's a patriot - just horrible things have been said about Rumsfeld") and psychologist Dr Joy Browne was tackling life's thornier issues on WAGE 1200 AM. A caller wanted to marry his dominatrix prostitute and thought she might be keen as, after six years of visits from him, she doesn't always charge. "You've got frequent flyer miles," Browne snapped at him dismissively.
Beyond these countrywide slick media stars, things are humdrum on radio in Virginia. Between adverts for debt consolidation and hot tub suppliers, stations broadcast enervatingly mushy music and even mushier chat. Back on WAGE, lunchtime presenter Chris King reported 59% relative humidity, played "some local music", and didn't mention the elections. He seemed in a fine mood ("What a pretty day we're having; I've got the window open") but his choice of opening track suggested that he might not be cheering democrat Jim Webb's local victory. It was called Bad News ("I just can't take no more bad news"). Or maybe that was just a dedication for the President.
At 5pm, unable to take anymore Virginian radio, I switched over to PM on Radio 4. Compared to what I'd been listening to, it was like bumping into an old friend, a clever, witty, charming, handsome, clued-up, entertaining friend. There are of course rare pockets of brilliance on American radio, but finding them requires more endurance than that bush tucker trial with the kangaroo gonads. Mostly, it's about as dire as radio gets. Here in the UK, we should count ourselves very lucky indeed for the radio that we receive. Even the smallest-scale local station glistens in comparison to its stateside equivalent.
